Ms Adler and Mr Holmes
by NoShipSherlock
Summary: This is how I imagined it would go if Irene Adler managed to bed the one and only Sherlock Holmes. Rated M for mature sex scene.


"Ms. Adler," Sherlock said, opening the door. "Your text sounded urgent. Are you in danger?"

"No. I'm perfectly fine," Irene Adler said, entering the flat in a white belted trench coat and oxblood stilettos.

"I don't understand. You said you needed to see me immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Holmes. I needed to see those gorgeous cheekbones again. I couldn't help myself," Ms. Adler replied. She deliberately walked toward the consulting detective stopping just inches from his lean frame and put a hand on his chest.

He stared down at her hand, then looked at her, perplexed.

"What's the matter?" she purred. "Don't know how to handle a woman?"

"Of course I do," he snapped. "But really, Ms. Adler. You must know by now I don't go for this sort of…" he trailed off and inhaled sharply as she unbelted her coat and let it slide to the floor, revealing a crimson bra and panties underneath.

"You were saying?" She leaned in closer and ran a finger down his cheek, the other hand on her hip.

He grabbed her hand and said, "Don't."

"Don't what?" She teased, pressing in closer. She could feel the heat and tension of his body and she lifted her free hand intending to pull him towards her.

"I said, 'Don't.'" He grabbed her other hand twisting it behind her back. She ignored the warning leaning forward, pressing her lips to his, her eyes never leaving his face.

At first he resisted. "I warned you, Woman," he said in a low voice, his clear blue eyes on hers, a flash of something almost dangerous lurking, but then he released her hands and she felt his long fingers cup the back of her head as he pulled her in, returning her kiss. He smelled of cherry tobacco, salt air and a faint whiff of cologne. It was a very masculine smell despite his delicate skin and features. She breathed him in, his warm lips still on hers as she began to unbutton his shirt.

He pulled back for a moment, a look of surprise on his face. He grasped her hand again, stopping her and finished unbuttoning the shirt himself. _Always in control_ , she thought. She rubbed his chest with her hands and was rewarded with seeing him tilt his head back and close his eyes then he bent forward, hungrily kissing her neck. She worked his belt free and was unbuttoning his trousers, pleased to feel the effect she was having on this man with whom she had dreamt making love to so many times.

Suddenly, he pulled away and pushed her onto the sofa, leaning in on top of her. Well, this was not what she expected from the man known in some circles as "the Virgin." He seemed very adept at the nuances of love making.

"I do believe you've been bluffing, Mr. Holmes. You do indeed know what to do with a woman. And I see I've managed to get a rise out of you," she said playfully, rubbing her hand between his legs.

"Oh, do shut up," he said kissing her roughly on the mouth then moving down to her breasts. He reached behind her back and removed her bra with one hand then he sat back and pulled her panties off, before leaning in again, working his way down her body with his mouth.

She had no idea how he knew what to do as she could not imagine him ever having had sex before, but there was a lot she didn't know about Sherlock Holmes, and right at this moment, she didn't care.

He was still on top of her and she gasped when he entered her. He stopped, searching her face for a moment, concerned. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No," she managed to say while biting her lip so as not to laugh. His doubt in the matter was so sweet. She was so used to leading, being in charge as a dominatrix, so this was new for her to let her lover call the shots. She liked it. Someone else being in charge. He was so sure of himself, so confident in all his other abilities, she found it endearing that he was more than a little out of his element here, and momentarily confused her pleasure for pain.

In answer to his concern, she pushed her hips to meet his. She studied his face, mouth open, disheveled curls obscuring his blue eyes. He looked to be in absolute ecstasy. Never had she seen him so unguarded, so lost in emotion. He was normally so cool and calculating. This was a different side of Sherlock, a side that no one else saw. She felt privileged indeed to see this genius, raw and naked, so to speak. He was actually still clothed though his shirt was open and his trousers pushed down to his thighs. And here she was, making love to the great Sherlock Holmes wearing only her heels.

They moved together as he pushed deeper inside her, and, while her detective remained silent save his rapid breaths, she moaned with pleasure at every move, climaxing with an "Oh, God! Yes!" as she felt him come inside her. It was sweeter and more satisfying than she'd ever expected and she was sorry it had not lasted longer. She would have to tease him out next time, if ever she got another chance. Oh, how she hoped there would be another chance.

He collapsed his full weight briefly on top of her then stood up, pulling up his trousers. She sat up but made no move to get dressed. He turned and walked to the kitchen, pouring two glasses of whiskey. He returned handing one glass to her as he downed the other. She couldn't remember him ever drinking before and wondered what internal monologue he was having with himself at this moment.

"Bravo, Mr. Holmes," she said. "You were good. Very good!"

"That was… interesting." He said.

"I'd say, amazing," she countered.

"Surprised?" he asked.

"Actually, yes. I had no idea you were so…skilled…. It was a revelation indeed."

"Aren't I good at everything?" he asked with a smile.

"Don't get cocky, Mr. Holmes. You are still a bit lacking in the romance and foreplay departments, but the end result was worth it. Surely, you didn't master the violin in one day? You just need more practice." 

"Well, we'll just have to see about some more lessons, Ms. Adler," he said sitting next to her and gently kissing her cheek.


End file.
